


We could always dress her as Professor X

by Smokey310



Series: Stupid boys talking and maybe some smut [7]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: (i should probs go and ask tumblr but i'm afraid), Again, Homophobia, Humor, I'm so sorry, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, also what do you call it when something is offensive against old people?, anyway - this is it!, but it's mostly making fun of homophobic people so nothing too serious, i'm so ashamed - this is the silliest thing!, oops i almost forgot that one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-29
Updated: 2016-10-29
Packaged: 2018-08-27 16:25:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8408572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smokey310/pseuds/Smokey310
Summary: Akaashi was still acting like he couldn't see the raging old lady sitting at their table. 
“For God's sake, Keiji, stop filing your nails just for the effect – they're already manicured to perfection. You're gonna ruin them!”
Akaashi finally looked up, still with a scowl on his face, but he slapped the nail file onto the table in defeat and crossed his arms. 
“Thank you!” Tsukishima sighed. “Now can we please brainstorm for a solution?”
“Well, we obviously can't keep her,” said Akaashi. “We know nothing about old people!”
“She's not a pet,” said Kuroo, at the same time as Bokuto cried out that he literally worked at an old people's home.
“Yeah,” said Tsukishima. “I wonder for how much longer.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> HA! i bet you didn't believe the day would come! But i am BACK BABY!  
> also, i kinda skipped to this one shot because this was the only thing i was inspired for and i wanted to write this one since before i even started daredevil on the slope! this means that the order of stories in the series is slightly off - obviously, the story about Yamaguchi and his way to love would come first, but I haven't written that one yet :x sorry!!

Kuroo knew that something bad had happened as soon as his phone rang. 

It was the ringtone he had saved for Tsukishima's calls: Bokuto singing a freestyle rendition of “Inside of you” by Hoobastank – a memory from their disastrous skiing trip a few months prior. It was a bit embarrassing to have it blast out of his back-pocket while he was sitting next to a group of school girls on the bus. Tsukishima wasn't much of a caller, especially not when he knew Kuroo would be home in the next five minutes. That's why Kuroo hadn't worried about the ringtone going off at inappropriate times, and it was also how he knew that something was not quite right.

“What's going on?” he asked, once he had finally wrestled the phone out of his pocket. “Is anyone hurt?”

There was only silence on the other end, and Kuroo almost came to believe it was a butt dial, but luckily he heard Tsukishima's teeth grind before he hung up. 

“Not yet,” Tsukishima said, once his teeth had probably been filed down to stumps. Kuroo waited for more information – accidentally interrupting Tsukishima in one of these moods could be dangerous.

“You need to hurry up. We have... a situation on our hands.”

A situation that probably went by the name of Bokuto. Still, Kuroo hadn't given up on a quiet evening with chips and beer and lots of cuddling – if everything went well, he could handle this before Tsukishima exploded. 

“What kind of situation?”

“I wasn't brave enough to ask yet.”

Kuroo was confused for a moment, until his phone vibrated in his hand and Tsukishima told him to look at the picture he just sent.

It was a picture of Akaashi, sitting on Tsukishima's couch, a pair of huge headphones covering his ears, probably blasting death metal. He was hugging a bag of chips and sending a death glare to the camera. He looked lethal, but in a cute way.

“I found him like this when I came home. He said his name is Yamaguchi and that he lives here, and then he banned the real Yamaguchi from our apartment,” Tsukishima explained, once Kuroo pressed his ear back to the phone. “And you know that if even Keiji is fed up with Koutarou's antics, there is no way I'll do a better job of resolving anything. So you need to go check up on him ASAP.”

“Why me?” whined Kuroo. If this was how far the situation had already escalated, there was no chance of a quiet evening anymore. “Babe, this is uncharted territory. Keiji can usually handle _everything_.”

“You're our only hope now.”

The sentence was followed by a beeping sound – Tsukishima had simply hung up on him, so Kuroo buried the phone back in his pocket with a sigh. The bus just came to a halt, and Kuroo belatedly realized it was his stop. He had to jump over a dog to get to the doors before they closed, and almost stumbled over an elderly man's walking aid, but he managed to slip out on time. Tsukishima would have killed him if he came home late right now.

Their apartment building was only a short walk away from the bus stop, and Kuroo decided to fall into a light jog. It would look weird if he ran at full speed while wearing a dress shirt and slacks. Whatever Bokuto had done, it couldn't have reached emergency status yet, because there was no smoke coming from their apartment building, and no sirens sounded in the distance. It all looked perfectly calm.

The calm was only slightly diminished by Tsukishima ripping open his door before Kuroo even had the chance to knock.

“Finally!” he said, waving Kuroo in. “You need to do something about Keiji. He's creeping me out.”

“I thought I was on Koutarou-duty today?” Kuroo asked, pressing a short kiss to his boyfriend's lips before Tsukishima dragged him into the living room. Tsukishima shrugged, admitting his helplessness, and pointed at the lump camping on his sofa. Akaashi seemed to have wrapped himself into a blanket in the last five minutes, still munching on his chips. Kuroo could hear the noise coming from his headphones from where he was standing. It was a miracle Akaashi hadn't gone deaf yet.

Slowly, carefully, Kuroo walked towards the lump, making sure that Akaashi could see him, and wouldn't spook when Kuroo took the headphones off his head. Akaashi's watchful eyes followed his every movement, but he didn't resist Kuroo's advances.

“Hello, babe,” Kuroo smiled, once the headphones were gone from Akaashi's ears. “I'm home.”

“Hello,” Akaashi said dryly.

Well. It was a start.

“Do you maybe want to tell me what's wrong?”

“Nothing's wrong,” said Akaashi. “Everything is normal.”

Denial, then. So that's how it would go. Sometimes, when everything became too much, Akaashi tended to just block it all out, acting as if nothing was wrong. He was incredibly good at it.

“See?” Tsukishima stage-whispered from the door. “Creepy!”

Kuroo tried to talk in a soothing voice, drawing a thumb along Akaashi's cheekbone. “I'm not sure that's true,” he said. “If I were to check on Koutarou right now... what do you think I'd find?”

“Why don't you go see for yourself?” 

Akaashi muted Kuroo's response by shoving a fistful of chips in his mouth and leaning back with a sigh. “I'm serious, Tetsurou – please just let me pretend that I'm anyone but the idiot who decided that dating Bokuto Koutarou is a great idea. I dealt with this shit alone for such a long time, it's not too much to ask you to take over for once.”

Kuroo had to fight with the chips in his mouth for a minute before he was able to talk again – they were vinegar-flavored. Gross. Luckily, he was fast enough to catch the hand trying to mute him with another load of chips. 

“You can't just let us handle every problem you encounter – remember when we talked about this? We need to try and resolve all of our problems _together_!”

“And yet Kei successfully redirected the problem of fake-Yamaguchi sulking on his couch to you,” Akaashi snorted, the chips in his hands crunching dangerously. He refrained from starting another attack though, and settled for a disappointed glare. “You're weak, Tetsurou.”

“Yeah, I am,” Kuroo admitted, embarrassed of being called out like that. “But so are you, watch this!”

He backed off from the couch, signing at Tsukishima to go get the Akaashi-persuader. Tsukishima immediately understood, running over to the fridge and returning with a glass of pickles a moment later. Kuroo took the pickles and waved them in front of Akaashi's face.

“You can have these, if you come with us. They are extra... vinegary, and sour. Just the way you like them.”

Akaashi was back to sending death glares their way, but Kuroo already knew that he couldn't resist, and he was soon proven right.

“Fine!” Akaashi spat. “I'll come with you. But I'm warning you – as far as I'm concerned, she's a ghost!”

Kuroo wondered what exactly that was supposed to mean, but he was too afraid to ask. Tsukishima also looked none the wiser, so Kuroo just shrugged and settled for scooping Akaashi up and throwing him over his shoulder. Tsukishima fed him a pickle as they walked out of the door to climb the stairs to Akaashi's and Bokuto's shared apartment.

When they opened the door, faint laughter could be heard coming from the kitchen. It was either Bokuto or Fuku-chan, the cockatoo, who liked to imitate Bokuto's laugh. It soon became clear that it was the real Bokuto laughing. Kuroo spotted him sitting at the table as soon as he walked into the kitchen. The next thing he spotted was a little more surprising.

“Uh...” Tsukishima said, already sounding like someone had stepped on his toes. “Who... is that?”

“Hey, babes!” Bokuto's beam was as bright as ever, indicating that he had not yet realized that Akaashi was angry at him. “Say hello to Emi!”

Sitting in a wheelchair at the kitchen table was something that looked like a mummy come back to life. Kuroo had to stare a moment longer than was comfortable to make sure “Emi” was actually breathing. Everything about her was wrinkly – from her face to her hair to her clothes. If Kuroo stared at her too long, it almost felt like his vision started to get blurry.

“And what exactly... is Emi doing here?” Tsukishima asked a little too loudly. He was probably trying to drown out the crunching sounds coming from Akaashi, who was chewing on his pickles as if nothing was wrong.

“Oh, I kidnapped her,” Bokuto said easily, waving his hand about.

“What?” Kuroo found himself bellow. “From where?”

“From work, duh?”

Kuroo had to set Akaashi back down onto his own two feet so his hands were free to massage the nearing headache away. Suddenly he understood why Akaashi refused to deal with this. Tsukishima, too – Kuroo only just managed to catch him by his sleeve before he turned around and walked out the door.

“So, what you're saying is... that you stole an old lady from the old people's home you work at?” Kuroo asked, after he took a few calming breaths. 

While calming breaths didn't do much for Kuroo, they certainly didn't help Tsukishima either. 

“Koutarou.”

Even Bokuto realized that something was wrong when Tsukishima said his name like that.

“Go and put it back where you found it. Right now. Or I swear, I'm gonna-”

“Bokuto, what's with this gang of rude brats?” 

The old lady's voice sounded much like Fuku-chan's, and if Kuroo hadn't heard the unmistakable sounds of the bird ripping the curtains to shreds in the living room, he would have been suspicious of facing a magically mutated cockatoo.

It only took him two seconds to be ashamed of his own thoughts. 

After all, Kuroo was someone who respected his elders, especially when they were as old as this woman right here. He let go of Tsukishima to bow deeply.

“I am very sorry for our rude behavior,” he said, wishing Tsukishima wouldn't scoff so obviously. Meanwhile, Akaashi stayed true to his words and completely ignored the weird situation, wandering over to the kitchen counter and making himself some coffee instead. 

“Anyone want some?” he asked.

“Please,” said Tsukishima. 

Kuroo suddenly found himself standing alone in front of the old lady as his whole cavalry went to make coffee. Hopefully they wouldn't give Bokuto any, because he was already vibrating in his seat. 

“So...” Kuroo said, sinking down in one of the kitchen chairs. “Koutarou, honey – would you mind to explain what drove you to... kidnap one of your nursing home's residents?”

“Oh, sure! I wanted to fulfill her dying wish,” Bokuto said, excitedly waving his hands. “Emi isn't on such good terms with her remaining family, due to some homophobia or whatever – in any case, they won't visit her anymore, so it's up to me to make sure she can see the Tokyo Tower one last time.”

As usual, that was a lot of incoherent information thrown together at once, but Kuroo had a lot of practice decoding Bokuto-speech by now. Also, he found it admirable that Bokuto would go to such lengths to fulfill this poor old lady's last dying wish, but was it really necessary to risk his job for that?

“Why Tokyo Tower?” he asked, figuring it would be the safest question.

“Because that's where she met her late husband thirty years ago.”

Thirty years ago? Kuroo couldn't imagine her being any less wrinkly than she was now if it was only thirty years ago, but oh well – age should not be a limit to romance, and who was he to judge anyway. However...

“Just a second,” he said, confused. “So she's not a lesbian? Then what about the homophobia issue?”

Emi decided to answer that question herself by suddenly foaming at the mouth and shrieking about gays and surprisingly colorful practices that hopefully awaited them in hell. Kuroo recoiled from the sheer force of her outburst, and also from the spit flying his way, almost toppling out of his chair. 

“Hold on, hold on, hold on!” he said, once he had regained his balance. “ _She's_ the homophobe?”

“Lovely.” Tsukishima had come back to sit at the far end of the table, where he could drink his coffee out of Emi's spitting range. “What a cute old lady she is, Koutarou. You almost want to squish her cheeks.”

Bokuto stayed unexpectedly calm in the eye of the chaos unfolding, merely getting up to get a napkin with which he dabbed the foam from Emi's mouth. “All of her grandchildren turned out to be gay,” he explained. “So she has a bit of a chip on her shoulder.”

“Haven't you forgotten something?” Kuroo asked. “Like... that _you're_ gay?”

The freshly wiped foam from Emi's mouth returned tenfold, almost like a flood, and Tsukishima clicked his tongue in disgust. 

“So what?” said Bokuto. He was stuffing Emi's mouth with napkins without blinking an eyelid. “We all have our faults. Doesn't mean she doesn't deserve to get her happy ending, right?”

Kuroo would have liked to protest, because he couldn't stand it when his boyfriends were treated badly. But at the same time, he couldn't help that his heart swelled at Bokuto's words. What a selfless soul he possessed, what a pure heart. 

Kuroo was suddenly overwhelmed by his love for Bokuto. He had no choice but to get up from his chair and crush him in a hug and plant a big kiss on his lips. It was enough to make Emi almost choke on the napkins in her mouth, and Kuroo would make sure to apologize after, but right now, he just had to show Bokuto his full support.

“You guys are aware that she's literally spewing her teeth at you, right?” Tsukishima asked. 

Kuroo let go of Bokuto when the wet clatter of a denture hit the table next to him, emitting a foul smell. It was not the kind of setting he wanted to kiss his boyfriend in, even though Bokuto gave the most pitiful whine when Kuroo pulled away.

“Gross,” Tsukishima commented, when Bokuto just turned and pushed the denture back in Emi's mouth, lecturing her about spitting her teeth. Seemed like it was not a singular occurrence. “Couldn't you have chosen someone who doesn't want to see you roast in hell for your altruistic bullshit?”

Bokuto turned to him with the wisdom of a thousand bearded magicians edged into his face. “Babe. It's an old people's home. For old people. Them wanting me to roast in hell is just the norm for me. Besides, Emi is a really good friend of mine, she even told me that I wouldn't have to get my eyes scorched out by the devil himself.”

Tsukishima didn't look like that raised his fondness for the old lady any more. 

“In fact,” Bokuto said, patting Emi's back in a way that almost made her dentures fall out again, “we two know each other from way back. I was there for her when we buried her husband, and she was there for me when my house burned to the ground, robbing me of all my earthly possessions.”

Kuroo was shocked for a moment, until he remembered that he had known Bokuto for pretty much his whole life and this was the first time he'd heard of something like this.

“What the fuck? That never even happened!” Tsukishima snapped, turning to Akaashi for confirmation. There was no support from that front, however, because Akaashi was still acting like he couldn't see the raging old lady sitting at their table. “For God's sake, Keiji, stop filing your nails just for the effect – they're already manicured to perfection. You're gonna ruin them!”

Akaashi finally looked up, still with a scowl on his face, but he slapped the nail file onto the table in defeat and crossed his arms. 

“Thank you!” Tsukishima sighed. “Now can we please brainstorm for a solution?”

“Well, we obviously can't keep her,” said Akaashi. “We know nothing about old people!”

“She's not a pet,” said Kuroo, at the same time as Bokuto cried out that he literally worked at an old people's home.

“Yeah,” said Tsukishima. “I wonder for how much longer.”

Emi decided to interrupt their conversation with yet another denture spitting. It seemed to be an accident this time around, because she continued talking even after the dentures hit the table.

“Dag me do fe dowel!” she ordered. No one understood a word she said, so she patiently waited until Bokuto put her teeth back in, to repeat: “Take me to the Tower! If you do, I won't breathe a word to the authorities.”

“We could just take your teeth, let's see you try it then!” Tsukishima threatened, undisturbed by Kuroo's scandalized glare. 

Emi wasn't so easily threatened, though. 

“I want to see that place one more time. I want to relive the feeling of pushing my fifth husband. His idiotic expression, his high-pitched scream... it still haunts my dreams.”

It took Kuroo a moment to be sure he understood her words. Somehow, even her voice sounded wrinkly. But when he saw his own expression mirrored in Akaashi's and Tsukishima's faces, he cried: “What the hell? Bokuto, you said she _met_ her husband at the Tower, not that she pushed him off!”

“Well yeah – she met her sixth husband. It was the police officer who came to arrest her,” Bokuto said, shrugging.

Kuroo had no words.

“What?” said Bokuto. “Her fifth husband was a huge asshole. He deserved it. Besides, those were different times back then, no one would have helped her against him.”

“It was thirty years ago, not three hundred!” said Kuroo. 

Akaashi, who had started to dip his pickles into the coffee in fury, gave Bokuto one of his patented death glares.

“You brought an evil, homophobic, teeth-spitting murderer into our home, Koutarou. I don't know if I can live here any longer. Her foul smell has already spread into every corner. I will never sleep in peace again.”

“Babe!” Bokuto whined. “She's not a murderer! She just pushed him down three steps of stairs!”

“Oh,” Akaashi said dryly. 

There was a sudden noise coming from the living room and Kuroo almost jumped out of his skin. Tsukishima, too - although he tried to play it off, Kuroo could see how his glasses had slid down his nose a little.  
Bokuto and Akaashi kept staring at each other as if nothing had happened.

"Uhm... what the fuck is that?" Tsukishima asked, which finally prompted Akaashi to tear his eyes away from Bokuto's and dunk another pickle into his coffee.

"Fuku-chan probably just turned the TV on," he explained. "I'll take care of it."

He took his pickled coffee and walked out of the kitchen, leaving Kuroo and Tsukishima to exchanged worried glances while Bokuto dabbed at some more foam that had collected at the edge of Emi's mouth.

"Koutarou..." Kuroo tried carefully. "You _do_ realize that Keiji is extremely mad at you, right?"

Apparently not, because Bokuto suddenly let go of the soaking napkin to give him a shocked look. "What? Why would he be-"

"Because you'll get fired if this ever comes out," Tsukishima explained with an untypical amount of patience. "Don't you get that? He's worried about you."

"But Emi would never breathe a word about it to anyone!" Bokuto claimed, patting the old lady's shoulder yet again and accidentally waking her from an apparent open-eyed slumber.

"DIE IN A FIRE!" she screeched.

"Emi and I are best friends," said Bokuto, as if she hadn't just wished his imminent demise. "I remember back in '63, when we would braid each others hair every morning-"

"You weren't even alive in '63!" Tsukishima barked, the fake patience crumbling like a stale cookie.

"That wouldn't keep us from being friends," said Bokuto. "That's just how strong our friendship is."

"HOMOSEXUAL SCUM!" Emi agreed.

Tsukishima was saved from a tragic case of head explosion through Akaashi's urgent call from the living room.

"You guys have to take a look at this!“

Akaashi's voice sounded oddly... dramatic. Not exactly a common thing for him. Kuroo wondered what Fuku-chan had done this time. Maybe he had stolen the pickle from Akaashi's coffee. Maybe he had ripped an ominous message into the curtains. Hopefully, he had just eaten a battery and exploded.

It was none of these things, though.

In fact, it had nothing to do with Fuku-chan. The bird sat perched upon the curtain rail like a warlord posing above the remains of the enemy army, but looked otherwise innocent. Akaashi was facing the TV, the remote trembling in his hand as he stared wide-eyed onto whatever the screen showed.

_**... there was unfortunately no good shot of a license plate, since it was blocked by the wheelchair, but if you know the owner of this car, please contact your local police department immediately!** _

Kuroo ran around the TV to mimic Akaashi's panicked expression. 

“Babe, what the _fuck!_ ” he yelled, as soon as Bokuto came to join them in the living room. 

A shot from a wonky dashcam played on the TV screen, showing the back of Bokuto's car. Tied to the car was Emi's wheelchair, happily rolling along through the small town traffic with Emi herself sitting in it, looking as disgruntled and wrinkly as ever. She was staring right into the camera. Kuroo almost imagined seeing a grin playing on her lips.

“Oh shit,” said Bokuto, in a tone that didn't really convey the amount of shit he was actually in right now. “Don't worry though, this is just the local news, and nobody watches this channel anyway.”

“You _tied_ her to your car!” Tsukishima snapped, pressing his eyes closed. “Why. _Why_ would you even do that?”

“The chair wouldn't fit, and I couldn't figure out how to fold it, so... I just... it already has wheels anyway, you know?” Bokuto explained.

“Couldn't figure out how to fold-” Tsukishima said, taking a deep breath. “Koutarou. You _work at an old people's home!”_

“True, but this is one of those blasted newer models that don't make any sense. You know, wheeled devices that aren't carried by horses are still new to me.”

“Okay, there is some serious anachronism going on in your past!” Kuroo groaned, pulling Tsukishima away from Bokuto before he could smack him. Akaashi, on the other hand, looked pretty much brain dead.

“I need some more coffee,” said Akaashi, a beat later. “And maybe some Xanax.”

With that, he fled the room, leaving the rest of his boyfriends to send worried glances after him.

“Shit,” said Tsukishima. “And I thought coffee and pickles were the worst combination he could come up with.”

Kuroo let go of him once he thought it was safe, so Tsukishima could go make sure that Akaashi didn't actually plan on mixing any dangerous brews. 

Fuku-chan's gleeful cackling brought his attention back to Bokuto, who now stared at the TV screen in fascination.

“I don't know what the problem is,” he said, once he noticed Kuroo's disapproving stare. “Look at her – she obviously liked it.”

“Koutarou!” Kuroo closed the distance between them with three big steps to shake Bokuto by his shoulders, hoping that despite the cackling in the background, the seriousness of the situation would somehow penetrate Bokuto's thick skull. “Pull yourself together, for crying out loud!”

Bokuto took a deep breath as if to say some more stupid things, but then he suddenly hung his head in shame.

“What were you even thinking?” said Kuroo. Bokuto just shrugged his shoulders, so Kuroo pulled him into an embrace and let go of a deep sigh. He wasn't mad. Not really. He knew that Bokuto just had an incredibly pure heart for someone who managed to make people angry so often.

“I just wanted to do something nice for her, because... she reminded me of Kei,” Bokuto admitted, which prompted Kuroo to pull out of the embrace a little to squint at him.

“Tsukki,” he repeated, voice strained with disbelief. “She reminded you of Tsukki!”

Thankfully, even Bokuto realized that he should clarify why this wrinkly, homophobic old lady reminded him of their own boyfriend. 

“Just imagine – what if one day, we're both dead and gone, obviously because we tried to race down a hill in our wheelchairs...” 

“Obviously,” Kuroo agreed.

“And Keiji's heart has long since exploded from a caffeine overdose...”

“I don't think that day is too far away, actually,” said Kuroo.

“And Kei is left alone, in an old people's home, where he sits in his room all day, because he doesn't want to socialize with the other residents, and the only people he sees all day are his nurses who came to change his diapers and try to wash his shrunken accordion-like body and only hope that he dies soon so he'll stop spitting his teeth at them or call them idiots for bringing him the wrong type of pudding.”

Bokuto's eyes shimmered with a curtain of tears after retelling his little fantasy – or maybe because Kuroo's grip on his shoulders was almost ripping a hole through his skin. Kuroo couldn't stop it, though. He was equal parts moved by Bokuto's thoughtfulness and afraid of this future.

“Wouldn't you...” said Bokuto, sniffling a little. “Wouldn't you want him to have someone who cares about him? Someone to fulfill his last dying wish? Someone to bring him to Tokyo Tower?”

“Yes!” Kuroo howled, pulling Bokuto in again and pressing their lips together in a wet kiss - wet partly because there were tears streaming down both of their faces, and partly because Bokuto didn't really know how to kiss without tongue. 

They were only interrupted when the screaming and spitting started again from the direction of the kitchen and they both realized that they had left Emi all alone with Akaashi and Tsukishima. 

It was a miracle that no one had died yet when they entered the kitchen at full speed and almost collided with the kitchen table. 

Emi was probably screaming about homos and hell – her teeth had fallen out again, so it wasn't intelligible. Tsukishima and Akaashi didn't seem to mind her spluttering. They were making out against the counter, which was either Tsukishima's way of keeping Akaashi from drinking any more coffee or an assassination attempt against Emi – probably a bit of both. Bokuto put the teeth back into Emi's conveniently open mouth, and the curses started anew.

“Shut up, Emi!” Tsukishima groaned, finally breaking the kiss. 

Bokuto gave a big, over-dramatic gasp.

“Babe!” he chided. “You can't speak to her like that, her heart is old and frail!”

Emi gave a demonstration of her frail heart by screeching like a banshee. “BURN IN HELL!” she cried, waving her fist towards Akaashi, of all people. “BEELZEBUB! UGLY DEMON SCUM!”

Bokuto's head turned towards her, and Kuroo wouldn't have been surprised if it had kept going for the entire 360 degrees, there was so much force behind it.

“SHUT YOUR GODDAMN WRINKLY CAKEHOLE, EMI!” Bokuto barked, loud enough that the following silence sounded like a storm. He glared at her until it looked like his eyes would fall out.

Emi didn't say another word.

“Oh no,” Tsukishima said into the silence. “Oh no, Keiji – don't do it!”

Kuroo turned to find Akaashi with a love-struck expression on his face as he looked at Bokuto.

“Don't... fucking _don't!_ ” Tsukishima warned.

Akaashi pushed a whole pickle into his mouth without saying anything and Tsukishima gave a deep sigh.

“Damn. We lost him.”

Bokuto had only just realized that he had yelled at the poor old lady with the frail heart, and looked like the revelation had hit him in the guts with steel-capped shoes. 

“Oh, shit. Oh, shit, oh shit! I'm so sorry, Emi. I didn't mean it. What I meant to say was-”

“Shut up, Emi!” Fuku-chan completed the sentence, flying into the kitchen with a drawn-out screech and landing on Emi's head. “Shut up, Emi! Shut up, Emi! Shut your goddamn wrinkly cakehole, Emi!”

He then proceeded to rip a strand of hair out of what Kuroo sincerely hoped to be a wig. Fuku-chan's antics were embarrassing, and rude, and Kuroo really wanted to interrupt, but he was distracted by the expression he saw on Tsukishima's face. It could only mean one thing...

“NO!” Kuroo yelled, but it was too late. 

Tsukishima turned to him with a _look_. 

“Maybe...” said Tsukishima, almost hesitant. “Maybe Fuku-chan isn't all bad.”

“Tsukki! How could you?”

“I'm so sorry,” Tsukishima said, sounding like he really meant it. “I think I just saw the light.”

At least Kuroo now understood the betrayal Tsukishima had just felt towards Akaashi. Still. Fuku-chan was a literal demon from hell and Kuroo couldn't believe that he had just lost the only person who knew this. 

This was not the time for sulking, though. Kuroo could do that once they didn't have to expect any police officers at their door, asking for a runaway mummy. “We still need to get her out of here,” he said, sounding very much like he was sulking, which he was _not_. “How do we smuggle an old lady in a wheelchair out of the house?”

“We have to disguise her somehow,” Akaashi suggested. 

Good idea, especially since Emi seemed to have knocked herself out with her screeching and hopefully wouldn't have to be gagged in the process. 

“But how do you disguise someone in a wheelchair?” Kuroo mused.

“We could always dress her as Professor X,” said Tsukishima, only shrugging when Kuroo sent him a shocked look. “Fuku-chan is almost done anyway.”

Indeed, Kuroo had totally forgotten to shoo the demon bird from Emi's head, which now looked no different than the heads of countless Barbie dolls Fuku-chan had stolen from children playing in the park and destroyed over the years. Kuroo had once opened Bokuto's and Akaashi's sink cabinet and discovered a graveyard full of half-bald Barbies, and he was pretty sure that had been the loudest he had ever screamed. He didn't want to end up finding Emi's head stuffed in there as well.

“What's wrong, babe? You look kinda sick,” Bokuto observed. 

“It's nothing,” Kuroo burped. “Just colorful imagination.”

“Just don't throw up on me, please – this is my last shirt with no puke stains on it,” Bokuto said, not bothering to elaborate on the cause of his many puked-on clothes. 

“ _How_?” asked Tsukishima, even though he looked like he was the one to want an answer the least.

“Kinda comes with my job,” Bokuto said, shrugging. “Also, I was trying to hold the neighbor's baby just this morning, and...”

“And?” Kuroo nudged, but Bokuto had already lost his train of thought. He looked off into the distance for a moment, and then suddenly beamed. “I have an idea!” he yelled, and ran out of the room before anyone could stop him. The rest of them were left to stare after him, until Emi gave an earth-shattering snore that had everyone jump.

“Goddamn it!” Tsukishima cursed. “We need more napkins.”

Kuroo stopped him from stuffing the poor lady's mouth with soggy napkins by laying a heavy hand on his shoulder and trying a disappointed voice. “Babe,” he said, taking the napkins from Tsukishima's hand and throwing them out of reach. “This could be you someday, you know? Please try and show her some respect.”

“Babe!” Tsukishima imitated Kuroo's voice. “She literally wants us all to die, so that 'respect your elders' shit doesn't apply here. You really want her and her mean old friends to keep tormenting Koutarou with their homophobic slurs every day when he's literally wiping their asses for them?”

Kuroo let that sink in for a moment, before he noticed tears gathering in his eyes.

So, all this time, Tsukishima was just being protective of Bokuto?

That was _adorable_.

“Come here!” Kuroo sobbed, pulling his struggling boyfriend in for a kiss and hoping that Emi wouldn't wake up and get a heart attack. They were lucky this time – Bokuto was back before Emi regained consciousness, and he had something with him that looked like a...

“Did you just steal the top off our neighbor's baby stroller?” asked Akaashi.

“I am a _genius_ ,” said Bokuto. He was also carrying a bunch of blankets, which he immediately started to drape around Emi and her wheelchair until everything but her head was hidden. Then he pushed the top of the stroller over her head. 

Kuroo gasped, faking it only a little bit. “Wow! You really are a genius!”

If anything, the disguise was enough to fool unobservant passers-by, as long as Emi didn't wake from her slumber. As soon as she started spewing death threats, everyone would know that they weren't hiding a baby in the wonky stroller. However...

“I can't think of anything better,” Tsukishima sighed, after everyone had turned to wait for his judgment. “But I doubt we'll get very far.”

“Then it's decided,” said Akaashi, pushing a hand against Bokuto's mouth just in time. “Don't holler, you'll wake her up again.”

It was too dangerous to take Emi's teeth while she was asleep, so they decided to just leave them in and hope for the best. It was already starting to get dark – if they were lucky, they wouldn't even meet that many people. 

They were made aware of the next problem as soon as they opened the door to push the wheelchair/stroller out into the hallway.

"Uhm... how the hell did you even get her up here?" Tsukishima asked, throwing Bokuto a confused look. His eyes wandered down to Bokuto's arms and his expression changed a little. "Don't tell me you _carried_ -"

"Babe, did you forget about the elevators?" Bokuto asked, eyes glowing with mirth - he probably thought he was smarter than Tsukishima for once, and in a way, he was.

"You didn't seriously lock yourself and that screeching banshee in the elevators of hell, did you?"

Kuroo couldn't stop himself from grinning. Who would have known...

"What are you talking about?" Bokuto asked. He hadn't caught on yet.

"The elevators?" Tsukishima rolled his eyes. "It's common knowledge that they get stuck more times than not, and that rats probably ate through all the important parts. No one rides them!"

"They are perfectly safe," said Akaashi, who sometimes made a hobby out of ruining Kuroo's fun. He was lucky he was so cute. "Koutarou and Tetsurou just invented a rumor back when they moved in, so that the elevators were free for them to use." 

“I literally saw one ominously go up and down with a burning candle inside,” Tsukishima said dryly.

“I was sending that to Tetsurou on his birthday” Bokuto explained, pushing the wheelchair/stroller towards the elevators while Tsukishima just stood there and watched from a distance. “There was a muffin, too.”

“Nah, you ate that,” Kuroo reminded him.

Bokuto's, “oh, right!” was the last thing they saw of him before the elevator doors swallowed him and Emi with a 'ping'.

“Kei, you're hurting me...”

Kuroo turned to find Tsukishima squeezing Akaashi's hand in an attempt to keep himself from pulling out his own hair. The look on his face was furious – however, Kuroo knew him good enough to detect a hint of worry.

“He's fine – the elevators didn't vaporize him,” Kuroo promised, carefully taking the offending hand in his own. 

“Which is a true pity,” said Tsukishima. 

They decided to take the stairs, because Tsukishima didn't seem ready to battle his fear of the elevator yet, and because taking the stairs was the healthier choice anyway. Bokuto and Emi were waiting for them, safe and sound, in front of the entrance. 

“What now?” asked Akaashi, peeking outside to check if there were any people around. “We need to smuggle her to the car somehow.”

“Then we'll just hope that the disguise doesn't fall apart and Emi stays asleep on the bumpy path,” said Kuroo. “Anyway, let's go!” 

Kuroo wasn't surprised when, despite all of their best efforts, it didn't take three steps out the door to have someone go, "OH. MY. GOD!"

"Is this Janice from 'Friends'?" Bokuto asked.

It was not Janice from 'Friends'. It was Oikawa from Why-the-hell-are-we-friends.

"I don't believe it!" Oikawa continued - he and Iwaizumi had just turned around the apartment building's corner, probably after a long and romantic walk in the park behind it. Their life seemed so nice and uncomplicated, Kuroo noticed. Those assholes. Who had time for romantic walks with their boyfriends? Only people who had sold their souls to the devil so as not to be busy with chasing escaped cockatoos or return kidnapped old ladies.

"You guys adopted?"

"You seriously think someone would give us a baby?" Tsukishima said, rolling his eyes. He tried to discreetly push Bokuto away from the stroller so that he could flee with it, but Oikawa stepped in his way.

"Iwa-chan, we should adopt, too!" Oikawa whined.

Iwaizumi only shrugged his shoulders - he seemed more interested in getting back inside, since it was starting to get a little chilly out.

"No one would give us a baby either," he said in a gruff voice, which made Kuroo question how a big, bearded and altogether burly guy like him was okay with being called Iwa-chan all the time. Oikawa must be really, really good in bed. Then Kuroo immediately felt bad about thinking of Oikawa's sexual prowess while he stood here with his three loving boyfriends and their fake adopted child.

"I wanna see it!" 

It was not a question, it was a demand – in fact, Oikawa was already reaching over to push the curtains aside. 

“NO!” Bokuto yelled, followed by a screech when Tsukishima stepped on his foot for being so loud. If they woke her up, Oikawa wouldn't need to see her to know that something weird was going on. “No, don't open it!” Bokuto said in a quieter voice, before Tsukishima could step on his toes again. “She only just fell asleep.”

“I won't wake her up, I'm really good with babies,” Oikawa promised, arm still dangerously close to the curtains. “I love babies, in fact, so please, just let me get a quick look...”

“You can't” barked Tsukishima. Oikawa looked up to him for a better explanation, and Tsukishima's hand turned into a trembling fist at his side. 

“You can't”, he said again. “Because...”

He started to sweat now.

“Because... she has a terrible illness.”

Bokuto patted Tsukishima's shoulder in consolation, but it only amounted to Tsukishima's glasses almost slipping from his nose. In any case, Oikawa didn't seem to believe them.

“Why are you trying to keep this cute little baby from me?” he accused. Behind him, Iwaizumi looked up into the sky, as if to beg for lightning to strike him. “This is not okay!” Oikawa said, and before anyone could stop him, he was diving in for the kill. 

Emi stayed surprisingly silent when the curtains in front of her face opened up to reveal an expectant face staring at her. For a moment, Kuroo tried to imagine that Oikawa would actually believe them. She was bald enough to be a baby - plus, most babies were wrinkly and ugly anyway. Maybe he wouldn't notice the size of her head. Maybe he would actually think it was an illness. 

But then Emi opened up her eyes and stared back. Oikawa visibly startled. His whole body had gone still and pale ever since he had laid eyes upon her.

Kuroo joined Iwaizumi in his silent hope for sudden smiting. He knew what was about to come.

“DIEEEEEEE!” Emi screeched, and Oikawa recoiled, falling down on his ass while Bokuto yelled at them all to run. They almost ran Oikawa over, and Iwaizumi was left to pick him up from the ground while shaking his fist at them, but no one chased after them. 

Little by little, the blankets started to slip off as they pushed the wheelchair along the stony path, shaking poor Emi through and through. None of them cared, though. It had been stupid to think they could get away with this. 

Their car was parked in a small parking lot on the other side of the road. There weren't all that many people outside, but everyone was looking at them while they wrestled Emi into the backseat and Tsukishima with his engineering degree tried and failed to get the wheelchair to fold. 

“Told you so!” Bokuto said, a little too smug for Tsukishima to handle. Luckily, the wheelchair was too heavy to throw at Bokuto's head, so all that happened was that Bokuto was banned to the backseat beside Emi. They left the wheelchair outside, convenient evidence for the police who investigated their escape to find later. 

Akaashi and Tsukishima sat in the front seats before Kuroo could even blink, so he was stuck with Emi and Bokuto in the back of the car. It didn't matter anymore. Prison wouldn't be any more comfortable. 

“Where do we go?” asked Akaashi, who sat at the wheel. 

“Away,” said Tsukishima. “Far, far away, where we can dispose of the body so no one will ever find it.”

“She's not dead yet!” Kuroo pointed out, because Emi was screaming in his ear, very unlike something a corpse would do.

“I mean Koutarou's body,” said Tsukishima. Everyone, including Bokuto, just nodded their head to agree. 

“Yeah, that seems fair,” Bokuto said, as Akaashi pulled out of the parking lot and they drove away into the night. “You know, I really love you guys.”

Kuroo was the only one who caught Tsukishima smiling over the rear-view mirror. 

~~~

Kuroo had thought he was too old for random adventures in the night between weekdays. 

At least now he knew for sure.

“Please,” he panted. “I can't... no more!”

“Stop whining!” Tsukishima panted even further down behind him. “You're not even carrying the demon hag!”

“Where's Keiji?” Kuroo asked to distract himself from looking at Bokuto, who was still whistling a tune while he climbed the steps ahead of them with Emi snoring on his back. 

“I think he rolled down the mountain in a fetus position a while ago,” Tsukishima said, which prompted Akaashi to yell a, “shut up!” from out of view. 

Kuroo couldn't help but grin. Sure, this was exhausting, and stressful, and not how he would have chosen to spend the night, if it was up to him... but somehow, when he was in the company of his boyfriends, even climbing a mountain in the middle of the night to show a kidnapped old hag the Tokyo tower became strangely... fun.

“Heeeeeey, we're here!” Bokuto suddenly yelled. It gave Kuroo enough of a boost to climb the last few steps without passing out. He was too tired to protest when Bokuto leaned Emi against him to go and give Akaashi a hand. At least she was asleep now. 

The mountain path had led them to a small platform in-between the trees surrounding them. A hole in the treetops allowed a look at the dark sky. The city lay before them, in the distance, much brighter than the stars in the sky, which were dimmed by the smog. Not an inherently romantic view, but it was the thought that counted. Besides, Kuroo was here with all of his boyfriends, so this was romantic by default.

Emi begged to differ with a half-drool half-snore, but she couldn't ruin the moment when Tsukishima finally reached the summit and let himself fall down to lean on Kuroo's other side. 

“Do you think that I was cursed at birth?” he asked, tiredly rubbing at his glasses. Kuroo took them from him and pressed a kiss to the wrinkle between his eyebrows. 

“Cursed to have three wonderful, loving boyfriends?”

“Ha ha,” Tsukishima said dryly, but he didn't protest when Kuroo moved from his eyebrows to his lips. They kissed gently, the romantic setting getting to them despite Emi's best efforts to produce the wettest snore in human history.

Bokuto arrived with Akaashi in his arms a minute later, leaning him against Tsukishima so that Tsukishima's attention was immediately stolen from Kuroo, but that didn't matter. Those two were cute when they were sleepy and cuddly. 

“So...” Kuroo said, after they just sat there for a while, enjoying the late summer breeze, the rustling of the trees, and the almost romantic view. “Should we wake her up?”

“Might as well get it behind us,” Tsukishima sighed. “We did come here for her, after all.”

Kuroo carefully nudged Emi in the side, hoping she wouldn't start screaming right after waking up. It would ruin the moment.

“Hey, Emi! Wake up!”

“Shit, do you think she's dead?” Bokuto gasped.

“She's literally snoring, Koutarou – shouldn't you know better as a geriatric nurse?” said Tsukishima.

“Shouldn't you be able to fold a wheelchair with an engineering degree?” Bokuto countered.

Tsukishima just snorted, too tired to get angry. “Seriously, what does one have to do with the other?”

“It's both complicated stuff,” said Bokuto. 

“Shhh!” Kuroo had just noticed Emi's eyes blinking open. “She's awake!”

She wasn't screaming – at least not immediately. She was just looking around, for now, probably asking herself how the hell she got here. Kuroo wondered if it was offensive to tell her that she wasn't in heaven yet. 

Finally, she seemed to notice that she wasn't alone.

“Where the hell is this?” she asked in her croaky voice that still reminded Kuroo of Fuku-chan. 

Bokuto leaned forward to beam at her.

“Emi! Look!” he said, pointing towards the city. There, illuminated by the light of the surrounding houses, was a tower rising into the air. “We made your wish come true!” Bokuto said proudly. “We brought you to the Tokyo Tower!”

Emi blinked again, looking almost cute, even though her hairless wig sat crooked upon her wrinkly head. She turned to look back at the city, framed by the crown of leaves surrounding them. 

“This,” she said, sounding enraptured for only a second before the screeching began. “This is just a normal transmission tower!”

Kuroo and his boyfriends didn't react to her accusation for a moment, still too proud of their accomplishment. Then, all at the same time, they said, “Shut up, Emi!”

“Yeah, how dare you ruin our wonderful gesture?”

“And after everything we went through!”

“We're on the run from the police because of you.”

“We should have known better than to fulfill the wish of a senile old hag!”

“The Tokyo Tower looks beautiful tonight.” 

...

Yeah. They weren't even anywhere near Tokyo.

**Author's Note:**

> i know i already apologized for this in the tags. this seems so over the top and silly after the slightly serious undertones of Daredevil, but I couldn't help myself :'D 
> 
> Bokuto loses his job after this, btw, but he doesn't go to prison. He just gets a fine for driving with his license plate obstructed. Turns out there was no law about tying old ladies to your car.
> 
> anyway, if you're new here, come say hi at [tumblr](topftopf.tumblr.com) :D


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